


A Brief Encounter (at Christmas)

by lola381pce



Series: Imagine Clint Coulson Prompts [18]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A Restless Clint is a Naughty Clint, BAMF Phil Coulson, CC Holiday Special 2k17 - Day 3, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Clint is Caught Brief-Handed, Clint's Search for his Present, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, ICC Holiday Special 2k17, ICC Stocking Suffer, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Phil Doesn't Play Fair When Hiding Clint's Present, Tumblr: imagineclintcoulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 15:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12914934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lola381pce/pseuds/lola381pce
Summary: For the ICC Holiday Special 2k17 - Day 3Prompt: “Are you trying to find your present?”





	A Brief Encounter (at Christmas)

**Author's Note:**

> We are always accepting new prompts at our tumblr account, so feel free to drop by with a little headcanon or ask.

Abandoned by Phil and Natasha on Christmas Eve, Clint slumped on the couch with his feet bare propped up on the coffee table (what Phil didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him). He was currently flicking through the TV channels in an attempt to find something he hadn’t seen before. Wasn’t easy. He and Phil had pretty much binge-watched all the good stuff on Netflix:  _Daredevil_ ,  _Luke Cage, Jessica Jones, The Defenders_ \- and as much as he wanted to, he wasn’t going to watch  _The Punisher_  without Phil. **  
**

Maybe something Christmassy then. Hmmm.  _A Very Murray Christmas_  would probably keep him entertained for an hour. Difficult to go wrong with a living internet legend such as the Mur-man. He pressed play and even managed to chuckle a few times but it just wasn’t the same on his own. Nat made weird braying noises when she watched it and Phil usually laughed so hard he almost stopped breathing. Their reactions were what made  _him_  double over. It seemed  _A Very Murray Christmas_  had to be a group activity to get the best out of it.

He tried watching a few other things but nothing kept his attention for more than twenty minutes at a time. Eventually, he pressed the off button on the remote with a little more force than strictly necessary and dropped it on the cushion with a pout. Curses to both Nat and Phil for not being around on Christmas Eve. He knew Nat was going to be away over the holiday and Phil had reminded him that morning that he was likely to be late tonight but still.

He sighed. Maybe some baking would stop him from being so restless. A restless Clint was a naughty Clint and that was no good for anyone. He checked the kitchen cupboards for ingredients to find Phil had stocked up, kudos to him for being so awesome, and ended up making batches of [melting snowman cookies](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.bbcgoodfood.com%2Frecipes%2Fmelting-snowmen&t=NTgxNGYzNzZiMTE2MzliOGMzNzg3OTE4NTFkMjYwOWQ2MTM4MzMzNix4NUM4NWkzWQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AL8PYG4Z5rd8iYCPaq9fFbQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fimagineclintcoulson.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F168157912304%2Ficc-holiday-special-2k17-day-3&m=1), [zimtsterne](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.bbcgoodfood.com%2Frecipes%2Fzimtsterne-cinnamon-stars&t=NzIyMDIzMzM3OTZiZDAwMmI5MmUzNTg4N2M5YTk4Yzg3YmFjMjhiMix4NUM4NWkzWQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AL8PYG4Z5rd8iYCPaq9fFbQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fimagineclintcoulson.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F168157912304%2Ficc-holiday-special-2k17-day-3&m=1), and a [fennel and poppy seed wreath](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.bbcgoodfood.com%2Frecipes%2F1826691%2Ffennel-and-poppy-seed-cracker-wreath&t=ODZjNDk5MzdmODEwZGQ0MDdhYTIwYzFlNTVhM2M0YWI1MTM2OTNlYyx4NUM4NWkzWQ%3D%3D&b=t%3AL8PYG4Z5rd8iYCPaq9fFbQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Fimagineclintcoulson.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F168157912304%2Ficc-holiday-special-2k17-day-3&m=1).

Pleased with his efforts, Clint brewed a pot of coffee and snacked on some of the results while re-watching some of his favourite episodes of  _Dog Cops_. Perhaps being left to his own devices wasn’t so bad after all.

Following a short snooze, Clint woke up and checked his cell phone. Eighteen twenty-seven. Still no texts or missed calls to say when Phil would be home. He’d pretty much reached the end of his repertoire of things to do to keep out of mischief (excluding anything related to archery or self-pleasure and he’d seriously thought about the self-pleasure option but he didn’t really feel like giving himself a pity wank on Christmas Eve).

There was nothing else for it. He’d managed to hold off the impulse for the whole day but he couldn’t fight it any longer. He’d have to do the very thing he promised he wouldn’t. He would have to scratch the itch that was making him so twitchy. Feeling just the tiniest bit of guilt at what he was about to do, Clint headed for the bedroom and systematically began to search it taking care to put everything back exactly how he found it. He did this sort of shit for a living. How difficult could it be to do it at home without being caught?

As it turned out, very.

“Clinton Francis Barton!”

Clint almost shit his pants! He froze for a moment before turning slowly to see Phil leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, arms folded across his chest, ankles crossed, wearing his finest inscrutable expression. How long had he even been there?

“Are you trying to find your present?” Phil asked, trying to sound annoyed but the amused look that slowly appeared on his face gave him away. He was such an asshole.

“No?” Clint replied his face burning and his heart racing in his chest. Damn it all! He was very much aware he lived with a badass spy and senior agent of SHIELD but that didn’t mean he was allowed to sneak up on him when he was… okay yes, trying to find his Christmas present. The special one that he knew Phil would have hidden away somewhere.

Clint ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe?” he amended, a wave of guilt rolling over him. “Okay, yes. But it’s your fault.”

God, he sounded like a petulant child.

Phil’s obvious amusement became greater as he pursed his lips trying to hold back a grin. “Is it now? This I’d love to hear.”

“Yeah, Phillip Jackass Coulson! You left me here on my own all day. I’ve been good for hours. I read, I watched tv, I baked. I even tried to finish a couple of AARs.”

“The zimtsterne  _are_  exceptional,” Phil acknowledged popping one in his mouth, “but… pretty sure I saw no evidence of any AARs.”

“Hey!” Clint whined in complaint at the stolen cookie. As for the after-action reports, he opened them on his laptop and stared at them for a while but c’mon… Christmas Eve!

“Don’t deflect,” Phil admonished. “You promised you wouldn’t look but here you are, with my underwear in your hand…”

Clint glanced down at the offending boxer briefs in his grip and quickly hid his arm behind his back.

“…searching for your Christmas present anyway.”

And now Clint felt really crappy. “Aww, Phil no. Don’t be mad.”

Phil shrugged. “I’m not mad. Knew you’d try so… I took it with me.”

“You took… you took it with you? Where’s the trust, Phil?”

Giving Clint his best unimpressed look, Phil deadpanned, “My briefs are still in your hand, Clint. I think you’ve made my point for me with the trust issue when it comes to presents.”

Ah yes… the damning evidence.

“Maybe I was just lonely and… wanted a pair of your briefs to hold while… I did my AARs.” What!? Well, that was lame. And Horrible. And a little scary. And apparently, Phil agreed.

“Huh! Sometimes you scare me.”

Phil pushed himself off the door frame and held out his hand to Clint.

“C’mon asshat,” he said with a crooked half-smile “You’re not going to find it so how about we go demolish the cookies and coffee you made. And after… well, maybe we can think of some way of taking us through to midnight and you can open your present.”

Clint grinned and threw himself into a tumble and rolled over the bed to join him, slipping his hand into Phil’s. He had all the best ideas.

“And Clint, maybe drop the briefs?”

“What?  _Now_?”

“In your hand,” Phil clarified, patiently.

Ohhh!  _Those_  briefs. Clint threw them over his shoulder back into the bedroom. He was pretty sure he’d lose his own before midnight anyway.


End file.
